A Little Bit Less
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Jonathan hopes to make Dracula's pain a little bit less. Light Het.


Title: "A Little Bit Less"  
Author: Kat Lee  
Rating: PG/K+  
Summary: Jonathan hopes to make Dracula's pain a little bit less.  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

He was the first to find the Count, because he knew exactly where to look. While the monsters scourged every inch of the hotel and its lands, Jonathan went straight to the hidden room in the tower where he knew he'd find the Undead King. He peeked into the room, saw Dracula moping just as he'd expected, and ducked back out. Quickly and quietly, he called Mavis on the cell phone he'd bought her and made his move only after hanging up.

He inched into the tower room, fully aware that the infamous Count might not be up for visitors. He didn't want to anger him, but he wouldn't leave him alone either. He knew he needed companionship now, even if he threatened to kill him for intruding. He wouldn't kill him, Jonathan told himself despite fearfully gulping, because he wouldn't want to explain to his beloved daughter why her husband of not even a year yet was already dead.

Mavis' love kept him safe, Jonathan assured himself as he edged slowly deeper into the room. "Hum, Drac?" he called out. His voice echoed in the still room. His eyes darted instinctively around at his shadowy surroundings even though he knew that he and Dracula were the only ones in the room. Nobody else knew of this room; he doubted even Mavis had ever seen the portrait at which Dracula had spent hours staring. "Everybody's looking for you, man."

He was surprised when the Vampire readily answered him that the hairs on his pale arms stood on end and he jumped a good foot. "Let zem look," he spoke, his Transylvanian accent thick. Jonathan knew from the sound of his voice that he was fighting tears.

He came to stand beside him, putting all his worries aside. Dracula wouldn't kill him or control him. If he was going to do either, he would have done so long before he married his daughter. Although he still had trouble believing it sometimes, the ancient Vampire actually did like him. A small grin tugged at the corners of the human's mouth as he remembered the first time he'd made him laugh by racing him on the ghost tables. The Vamp was in for a surprise that was sure to make him grin, but now, Jonathan thought, wiping the smile from his face, was no time for grinning or laughing.

He stared solemnly at the portrait for a moment, fully aware of how empty the room was, how miserable his friend, and how time itself seemed to stand still as he stood, drawfed in Drac's shadow. Finally, he spoke, "I don't want to sound harsh. I know you're hurting, Drac, but you've got a whole world of monsters out there looking for you not because they've got problems but because they care about you. They, hum . . . " His words failed because of his nervousness. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed impossible not to be nervous in the presence of the world-renowned, and globally feared, Count Dracula. "They know what today is," he pressed on eventually, "and they're worried about you."

"I vill be fine." He stepped forward and gingerly touched the painting of his dead wife's smile. "Martha and I just need zis time."

"That's cool that you need time with her. I get that. I do. But if what everybody says is true, you've been locked up in this tower for over two nights now. They're worried."

"You already said zat," Dracula murmured distractedly. His fingertips traced his wife's smile and then the skin around her beautiful eyes.

"I'm worried," Jonathan whispered, knowing that would do no good. He then added more loudly, "_Mavis_ is worried."

"Tell her I am here and that I vill be fine."

"If I tell her you're here, she's going to come after you. Is that what you want?"

Dracula started to speak but changed his mind and sealed his lips. He continued to trace Martha's image with tears glistening in his dark, haunting eyes.

When silence had passed between them for a while, Jonathan allowed his shoulders to slump and stuck his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Fine," he muttered. "If that's what you want," he turned away, "I'll tell her where you are."

"No. Don't. I . . . I do not vant to upset my little Mavy Wavy."

Jonathan looked back at him over his thin shoulder. "It's too late for that," he informed him, trying to get his point across while also not sounding cold, "but if you don't want me to tell her you're here, what do you want me to tell her?"

"I . . . " His hand fell away from the portrait; his entire face and very countenance was down cast. The proud Vampire looked to the stone floor rather than meet the mortal's gaze. "I do not know."

"Uh huh. I kinda figured that." Jonathan paused to give him time to speak, but he did not. "I know what to tell you, though."

Count Dracula finally looked up at him, clearly puzzled. "Vhat?" he asked, the tips of his fangs revealed in his open, speaking mouth.

Jonathan would not be swayed. He would not run from those fangs, he told himself though his palms sweated, his knees almost buckled, and he shook inside. Mavis needed her father to be with her, not to be hiding away from her and the whole world, moping over a woman who, no matter how much he loved her, would never return to this Earthly plane. He knew what he needed. He knew what they all needed.

With that thought in mind and with summoning every bit of his considerable courage, Jonathan turned back toward the closed door and yelled out at the top of his lungs. "HEY, WOLFMAN, COME ON! WAYNE! I FOUND HIM!"

Dracula's eyes seared flames; his face turned red. His snarl was the biggest and angriest expression Jonathan had seen since he'd seen him kiss his daughter for the second time. "VHAT ARE YOU DOING?! HOW DARE YOU!"

Jonathan grinned. He whirled about on his tennis shoes, folded his arms, and beamed up at him. "Better hide that portrait, Drac man," he said as howls burst through the hall ways. "They're gonna be here any second, you know." The stampede of monster footsteps sounded like a tornado coming up toward them.

Dracula rushed to his treasured portrait and just barely managed to throw the curtain back over it before Wayne burst into the tower room. "Vhat?!" Dracula hissed, seeing the Wolfman riding on a ghost table.

Wayne shrugged at him. "Hey, it was the kid's idea."

"But he said it'd work!" Murray, the Mummy, added as he swooped in beside his old friends.

A ghost table hovered up through the floor, becoming solid only when it lifted directly underneath Dracula's booted feet. The impact jostled the Vampire, sending him to his knees on the table. His red eyes glowered at his friends. Wayne, Frank, and Murray tried to fly circles around him but were hindered by other tables in the room, all of whom had the distinct misfortune to be being rode hard by the Wolfman's cubs.

Then a table knocked purposefully into Dracula's own. "Hey, Dad!" Mavis called, grinning. She playfully jabbed at his shoulder. "You're it!" She took off flying out of the room with the others each following her.

Dracula looked puzzedly down at Jonathan as he rose on another table. "Don't look at me." Jonathan shrugged and smiled. "You better go catch your daughter. I told you they cared."

Dracula gave his hidden portrait one last, forlorn look. "Forgive me, my Martha," he moaned and then flew after the others.

Jonathan glanced at his retreating back and then thoughtfully back to the portrait. He wished he had all the words Drac needed for comfort. He wished he knew how to tell him that there was no reason to ask for forgiveness, that he had done all he could not just for Martha but for Mavis and for the world's monsters as well. Maybe one day, he'd be able to, but he could hear the old monster laughing already several flights below and grinned to himself. His plan had been a success: Dracula wouldn't spend the entire anniversary of his wife's murder wallowing in sadness and alone. He'd be surrounded by friends and family instead, and Jonathan knew that that would help make his pain at least a little bit less and carry him through another year.

**The End**


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